


My Dear Melancholy

by opald



Category: What the Duck The Series
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Break Up, Protectiveness, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-21
Updated: 2018-05-21
Packaged: 2019-05-09 18:02:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14720945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/opald/pseuds/opald
Summary: When Rambo loses Pree for good, he starts to spiral. Pree takes notice.





	My Dear Melancholy

**Author's Note:**

> Waiting for Season 2 and for these two to get their acts together is hellish so I had to fix-it myself.

It’s been five days since Rambo was home.

Three since he’s been at work, not that he’s counting. The only reason he knows any of this is because Pent won’t stop talking about it.

“You’re going to lose your job, you know,” Pent says, even as he presses kisses down his chest.

“I don’t care,” he replies. He really doesn’t. When he was still whole, when he still had Pree, he remembers stepping on a piece of stray glass in their garden. He remembers crying and Pree cleaning the wound for him before pressing kisses to his cheeks and rocking him on his lap. He was spoiled to think that was the most painful thing that could ever happen to him. Losing his job would be nothing compared to the glass, nothing compared to losing Pree. 

The thought has him blinking back tears, the fog of alcohol and coke finally thinning. He doesn’t want to remember anymore.

He pulls Pent up by his hair.

“Kiss me,” he begs. 

Pent leans forward, before stopping because he never just gives Rambo what he wants.

“No,” he says, firmly, “You’re getting up, and you’re coming to work with me.”

“I’m not,” Rambo insists. He lets some of the tears that are already behind his eyes, fall.

“Please,” he sniffles, “I don’t want to go.”

Pent deflates a bit before wiping the tears away with his thumb, deceptively gentle.

“You really need to stop with the tears, Bo. They might have worked on Pree, but they won’t work on me.”

Pent daring to use Pree’s name around him, makes Rambo shove him off, one bony knee pressing into his firm chest.

_He threw me away so obviously my tears don’t work on Pree._

Rambo stands on shaky legs over a strangely smug looking Pent.

“Fuck off,” he says, wiping at his tears, embarrassed now. 

“There you go,” Pent says, standing and clapping a hand on Rambo’s shoulder, “That wasn’t so hard, now was it?”

His answer is a towel in the face, and the sound of Rambo’s reluctant feet stomping to the bathroom.

 

* * *

 

Even with Pent’s picking and prodding, he knows he looks like a mess.

His eyes are red and puffy, tie loose and stained with something he doesn’t want to think about. He sees a few stewardesses start to whisper when he walks into the lobby. They quickly look away when he shoots a glare at them.

“Come here,” Pent says, dragging him away to a corner, his hands acting as Rambo’s only anchor. He tightens Rambo’s tie, but his eyes are on Rambo’s lips. 

“Don’t scare the stewardesses.”

Rambo pushes him away and says, “Don’t tell me what to do,” before walking away. He feels like he’s on display under the bright lights of the airport, so unlike the darkness of Pent’s apartment. It makes him want to hide.

He slips into the back room, checking in quickly before going to his locker. His name is still on the list so he hasn’t been fired yet. He doesn’t feel any relief at that. 

The back room is empty, all the stewards besides him and Pent already working. It’s still too bright in here, but it’s better than the airport lobby that’s swarmed with people.

He hasn’t done anything for the last few days besides lie down and let himself be…used. But he still feels exhausted so he collapses on the bench, head in his hands.

He doesn’t even notice the door has opened until he hears a familiar voice.

“Rambo?”

His head shoots up so fast, he narrowly avoids hitting his head on his locker. 

Pree stands above him looking like he always does. He looks handsome because he’s never anything but, hair perfectly coiffed and suit pressed. He looks like their breakup hasn’t affected him at all.

 _Because it didn’t_ , a voice whispers in Rambo’s head. It sounds suspiciously like Pent’s.

Pree should be working but instead, he steps forward, door closing behind him. His eyes stay on Rambo’s, so he looks down to avoid his gaze. He wishes he had stayed in the lobby.

“Have you been crying?” 

Rambo doesn’t respond, biting on his lower lip to stop the words he can’t say from pouring out of his mouth.

_Why are you asking when you don’t care?_

The silence fills the locker room like rapidly rising water. When it’s threatening to suffocate, Pree speaks again.

“Our supervisor wants to talk to you about the days you missed off work.” 

“Oh,” Rambo finally says. This he can deal with.

He stands and wipes a hand over his face, rubbing away the remnants of tears and muck from his eyes.

Pree still doesn’t leave, standing there with his brow pinched like he’s worried. Rambo wishes he would stop it because it makes him hope when he shouldn’t have any of that left anymore.

“He wants me to take you to his office,” Pree says, and that hope disappears. Of course, he wouldn’t come and find Rambo without a reason.

“Okay,” Rambo says quietly.

Pree gives him another long look that he can’t read before he turns and opens the door. Rambo follows, making sure to keep a few paces behind him so he doesn’t get too close. He’s numb, but he can still feel the sting from Pree’s rejection of his touch. 

Pree opens the door to the office, but he doesn’t step inside. It takes Rambo a moment to realize he’s holding the door open for him.

“Sorry, sorry,” he mumbles, and he is. He’s always troubling Pree.

Pree’s face gets pinched again, but the look disappears when they’re both standing in front of their supervisor.

“Rambo, I’m happy to see you, especially since the last time you were here was four days ago.”

Rambo flinches. The supervisor is only a small man with a cap of thinning black hair, but his tongue is sharp.

“I’m sorry for the inconvenience,” Rambo says, the words flimsy on his tongue, “I…made a mistake." 

“That much is obvious.”

Rambo almost wants to lose his job, it would be a welcome reprieve from the bright unforgiving lights of the airport and Pree’s constant presence. He’s lost everything else, anyways. 

“It’s my fault sir,” Pree suddenly says.

Rambo stares at him with wide eyes, confused.

“He…” Pree’s eyes dart between the redness of Rambo’s eyes and the bags underneath them, “…was taking care of my sister, Mo. But he ended up getting sick too, so he’s been home resting.”

It’s not a stretch considering how terrible Rambo looks. And nobody really knows they’ve broken up, besides Pent.

“Why didn’t you call in sick for him then?” their supervisor presses on.

“Like I said, it was my fault, sir. I didn’t think about it because I had to take care of Mo and Rambo too.”

His words are a carefully packaged lie to help Rambo keep his job, but they make his eyes water. Pree used to take care of Rambo when he was sick - he used to take care of him all the time. And now, Pree pities him. It’s almost worse than being thrown away.

Their supervisor eyes Pree but Rambo knows they’ll be let off before he speaks. Pree has always been the better liar.

“Fine,” he says, “I understand. Still, I’ll be docking your salary by 1000 baht, Rambo. If you have to take time off in the future, call first.”

Rambo stays silent until Pree nudges him with his elbow.

He bows his head quickly and tries to look appreciative like he actually cares about this job. 

“Yes sir,” he says.

“And go clean yourself up,” their supervisor says, “You’re a steward and your appearance is an important part of the job.”

"Of course," Rambo bows again, before shuffling out of the room after Pree. 

Pree is already walking away, his back to Rambo, but he has to ask. 

“Why did you help me?”

 Pree stops, before looking back at him slightly.

“I didn’t want you to lose your job,” Pree says simply like that explains anything.

_Wouldn’t that be better for you?_

But maybe Rambo is being too cocky, thinking he has any effect on Pree just by being at work. He’s in love with someone else now after all.

“Thank you,” Rambo says, even though he wishes he’d gotten fired.

Pree nods stiffly, before turning away and disappearing down the hall.

With Pree gone, Rambo’s shoulders drop like a puppet on cut strings.

He needs a drink. Maybe two.

 

* * *

 

He ends up needing more than that to forget Pree’s face. 

The lights in Pent’s apartment create a kaleidoscope of colour, reds and blues melting into the clear glass in his hand. He downs the clear liquid, barely grimacing at the taste. 

The party is bigger than usual tonight. There are men everywhere, two pressed against a shelf, a group perched on the couch, and Pent sitting across from Rambo, a smirk on his face.

“Haven’t you had enough?” he says, even as he pours Rambo another drink. 

“No,” Rambo says, “Because I’m still talking to you.”

Pent pulls the offered glass back.

“That’s not very nice, Rambo,” he says, “Why can’t you be nice to me?”

_You’re not Pree._

“You’re you,” Rambo snaps, snatching the glass from his hand.

He’s about to down it when he sees him. He almost thinks he’s hallucinating, but he hasn’t had any drugs tonight.

Pree is leaning against the wall, glass in hand and his eyes on Rambo. His hair is messy and his shirt is unbuttoned, revealing a white tank top that clings to a muscular chest. The blue shirt is old, Rambo knows because he’s the one who picked it out.

He’s suddenly ashamed of the telling marks sucked into his skin by different men, and the wetness of his eyes from all the alcohol he’s downed.

“What’s wrong?” Pent asks, “Do you need to puke? Please don’t puke on my couch.”

Rambo grabs him by the arm, pulling him up and down the hall. He presses him against the wall, and leans in close so Pent can hear him over the music.

“Get him out of here,” Rambo says, desperation making him tug at Pent’s open shirt like a kid.

Pent scans the party curiously, his eyebrows rising when he sees Pree.

“Why would I do that?” Pent says, “This is a party isn’t it? I’d have to be stupid to throw out someone as hot as Pree. Maybe, I’ll even talk to him myself.”

 Pree wouldn’t touch Pent with a 10-foot pole but Rambo finds himself grabbing Pent’s wrist, grip tight.

“Don’t you dare,” he hisses.

Pent looks amused like Rambo is a particularly entertaining dog, but his eyes soften when he sees how panicked he looks. Rambo hates when he looks at him like that, it makes it harder to hate him.

“Think about why he’s here, Bo,” Pent says, cryptically. He pats him on the back, before sidling past.

 _Probably to look for another boy to ruin_ , Rambo thinks bitterly.

Rambo counts to five, and then ten, before daring to look at where Pree was standing.

Pree’s still there, and his eyes are only on Rambo.

His intense gaze makes the breath in Rambo’s chest hitch. 

He briefly considers escaping down the fire escape, but he’s high on the fact that Pree willingly sought him out. There’s no other reason someone like Pree would come to a party like this. 

Rambo breathes heavily, trying to calm himself down, before he takes the shot of liquid courage that Pent poured him.

It gives him just enough nerve to walk out from behind the corner, and right into Pree.

“What are you doing here?” Rambo asks, the alcohol slurring his words.

“What are _you_ doing here?” Pree throws back at him. He looks at the men around them, most of them in some state of undress, and some even fucking.

“You shouldn’t be here, Bo.”

The sound of his nickname from Pree’s lips makes him whimper, despite himself. It’s embarrassing, and he hopes Pree can’t hear it over the music. Of course, he never gets what he wants.

He can see Pree’s jaw clench, eyes darkening at the sound. He knows Pree well, he can tell the sound of his whimper gets Pree going. But it doesn’t matter, not when he doesn’t love him. 

“It’s none of your business what I do,” Rambo says, echoing Pree’s words, “We’re not lovers anymore.”

Pree hardens at that. 

“You’re right,” he says, “We’re not lovers anymore.”

Rambo can feel his vision blur with tears. He blinks quickly to hide it.

“But…that doesn’t mean I don’t care about you.”

He says that, but his fingers are bare, no ring in sight. Rambo suddenly feels unimaginably angry.

_I don’t want you to care about me when you used to love me._

“I don’t need you to care about me!” Rambo yells. The music cuts out at the tail end of his voice, and a few men look at them curiously.

Pree looks shocked, but for once Rambo doesn’t care.

He steps away from him, turning around and walking straight into the chest of one of Pent’s conquests. He doesn’t know who he is, and he doesn’t care. He grabs the man by the neck, and pulls him into a wet kiss.

Let Pree watch him and try to care. Rambo’s sure he’ll go running back to that sweet faced boy he loves once he sees what he’s become.

He moans into the other man’s mouth, making it theatrical just for Pree, before pulling him on to one of the leather chaises. When he’s perched on the man’s lap, he opens his eyes.

Pree is still there.

His eyes meet Rambo’s as he downs the rest of his drink. 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm writing this mostly for fun, but please let me know if you liked it!
> 
> You can hit me up @opald on Tumblr if you wanna talk about WTD.


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